Road Trip II: ???
I need to get a grip...
This is Part 2 of my All-American Industrial Road Trip series. You can find Part 1 here.
Haven’t quite slept in 3 days and I can hardly process what I’m seeing. Of what I can remember, I am unsure how confidential any of it is…
We were asked to leave our phones on the bus for today’s trip. All I have are these notes, written on napkins, business cards and the back of my hands:
Our tour starting before sunset again, this time being picked up in a much nicer bus than before. All-black with tinted windows and black leather seats. A man in a suit with slicked hair stepping out of the vehicle, setting down a cooler full of water bottles, stretching his arm out stiffly to motion us into the bus. Very classy.1
Sitting in a royal blue cube, holding a yogurt parfait. Walls are dimly lit, lined with black pillars and American flags. Listening to a presentation from an engineer with his face draped in shadow. He says he works in ‘Advanced Research, if that’s what we’re calling it now…’ and laughs.
Putting on a hazmat suit and walking around the satellite production floor. Everything bright, glowing white. Biting my tongue to stay awake. Need to listen to what the woman is saying, something important. The satellites are covered in gold foil and mirrors and wires. Ceiling projectors cast green lasers onto composite sheets, and technicians cut into the shimmering outlines.
Driving somewhere far from LA, past Santa Clarita and out into the desert. Shivering as we walk across the tarmac, wind cutting through my sweater at the high altitude. Have to keep my eyes open. Inside the warehouse the nonstop whir of drills and machinery occludes the senses, the man’s lips moving silently against white noise… My knees buckle and I stumble forward, just for a moment before bolting upright again. Adrenaline floods my system, and the room sharpens. Suddenly I notice the man in full resolution, but still cannot characterize him in any meaningful way. He is neither old nor young, neither tall nor short. His skin is smooth and light brown, his suit somewhere between tan and gray. There are ten people standing behind him now — were they there the whole time? He laughs genially, and shakes hands with all of them. It is time to go now.
I later learned his name is James, which again is ve-e-ery classy.